Thursday, July 17, 2014

The Glorious Loew's 175th Street Theater -- 4140 Broadway

In 1939 Thomas Lamb was far from his birthplace in Dundee,
Scotland, on many levels. In 1883 he
arrived in New York at the age of 12 and went on to study architecture at the
Cooper Union. Eventually, after working
as a buildings inspector for the City, he established his architectural office,
Thomas W. Lamb Inc.

Lamb would make his name with the advent of motion
pictures. His first commission for a
theater came in 1909 from motion picture magnate William Fox. Within eight years he had designed three more
motion picture theaters on Times Square.

By the 1920s movie theaters were rightfully deemed “palaces.” And among the foremost architects of these
lavish structures was Lamb. Before his
death in 1942 he would have designed more than 170 theaters.

When the Great Depression hit, Hollywood responded by
cranking out carefree musicals and comedies with elaborate sets and lavish
costumes. Busby Berkeley’s Gold Digger
series, for instance, offered depression-weary audiences an escape from the
gloomy world outside the theater doors.
Even the lyrics in one of the Gold Digger songs, “We’re in the Money,”
pretended the financial crisis was over with lines like:

“Old man Depression, you are through. / You’ve done us
wrong.”

and

“We never see a headline about a breadline today. / And when we see the landlord, we can look
that guy right in the eye.”

In 1929 Thomas Lamb would assist in diverting movie-goers’
minds from their troubles. That year his
Loew’s 175th Street theater was built at No. 4140 Broadway, between
West 175th and 176th Streets. Nothing the architect had designed before
could outdo this latest extravaganza.

As if with gleeful abandon, Lamb’s wildly exotic design drew
from nearly a dozen architectural styles.
Although The New York Times, on February 21, 1930, said “The house’s
style of architecture is Indo-Chinese;” it went far beyond even that broad
description. The terra cotta façade—which
smacked of a Cambodian or Thai temple--included elephants and Buddhas; and
inside Moorish and Byzantine elements coexisted with stylized Rococo and
splashes of Art Deco.

As he did most often, Lamb used Harold Rambusch, of the
Rambusch Decorating Company to lavish the interiors. Rambusch and Lamb shared an important theory
about motion picture theater design—the audience should be drawn into grander
and grander spaces.

In writing about the rehabilitation of vintage theaters,
Janis Barlow of Janis A. Barlow Associates quoted Lamb who, in 1929, said “To
make our audience receptive and interested, we must cut them off from the rest
of the city life and take them into a rich and self-contained auditorium, where
their minds are freed from their usual occupations and customary thoughts…it
does not seem wise to bring the people directly into the full richness and
intensity of the decorative scheme, so it is customary to work up to this
intensity through various stages.”

On February 22, 1930 the theater opened with tremendous
fanfare. More than 1,000 Boy Scouts
marched up Broadway from 170th Street to the theater. “The parade represented the march of
Washington’s army to defend New York against the Hessians,” reported The New
York Times the following day. Once in
place, the assembled scouts watched the hoisting of the American flag on the roof of
the theater.

Movie goers that day would see the screening of Norma
Shearer in Their Own Desire. The interior decorations, however, very well
may have been the real show. As the patrons
entered the lobby they were surrounded by gold ornamentation, and red carpeting
and hangings. Intricate carvings encrusted
the walls and ceiling. The newel post
lamps of the grand staircase were upheld by elephants. At the top of the staircase was a gigantic mural featuring a bas relief Art Deco goddess.

And, as Lamb and Rambusch intended, if the audience was awed
by the lobby, they were blown away by the cavernous, richly decorated 3,400-seat
auditorium. Behind the pierced wall carvings were changing colored lights that created a magical kaleidoscope
of changing hues. Once they settled into
their red plush seats, the cares of the Great Depression outside were
temporarily forgotten.

As with all the great movie palaces of the time, audiences
were treated to organ music prior to the screening. The size of a theater’s pipe organ was a
source of pride as well as a marketing tool for competing motion picture
companies. The Loew’s 175th
Street Theatre boasted a Robert Morton twin-chambered “Wonder Organ.”

On Labor Day, 1943 Local Union 802 filed for a $12 weekly
wage increase for movie theater organists.
Nearly a year later, on August 19, 1944, the War Labor Board approved the
increase. “The new scale of $92 per week
affects only one musician at present, Henrietta Cameron employed at Loew’s 175th
Street Theater,” reported Billboard on August 26. Henrietta received a windfall along with the
increase. “Miss Cameron has collected
over $550 in retroactive pay from Loew’s,” the periodical said. The organist was now earning a gross weekly
salary of about $1,150 in today's dollars.

For another decade, before television kept families at home
instead of at the movies, Loew’s 175th Street Theater screened first
run motion pictures, Saturday serials, and newsreels. Fans left the auditorium teary-eyed after
watching Judy Garland in A Star is Born,
smiled through Five Little Peppers at
Home, thrilled at Son of Monte
Cristo.

As movie audiences thinned, Loew’s got creative. In 1964 it screened live sports events such
as the Liston-Clay heavyweight championship bout on in February; and the New
York Giants and Redskins game at Yankee Stadium on September 25th. On September 26th The New York Times reported
“Pete Rozelle, the commissioner of the National Football League, watched the
first quarter of the contest from a seat at the rear of the orchestra of Loew’s
175th Street theater, at Broadway.”

Tickets did not come cheaply. The $6 cost to see the close-circuit coverage
at Loew’s was the same price as the most expensive seat at Yankee Stadium
(about $45 today).

Creativity did not save the majestic theater as a movie
house. In 1969, after the last screening
of 2001, a Space Odyssey, the theater
was closed. It was quickly purchased by
the Reverend Ike, considered to be the first black televangelist. No store-front church, his United Palace had
the funds to maintain the structure in its full glory. Rather than alter the interiors Rev. Ike commissioned
full-scale renovations that brought back the priceless Rambusch interiors.

In the early 2000s the church offered the auditorium as
leased space. Here audiences saw concerts by
artists like Bob Dylan, Adele, the Allman Brothers, Neil Young and others.

Then, in June 2012, the United Palace of Cultural Arts—a nonprofit
arts and cultural center—was created at the Palace. The center hosts community arts programs,
provides a venue for local artists to create and exhibit their work, and hosts
events like the master workshop for elementary school students by the New York
Philharmonic.

The church added the somewhat regrettable belfry; but was otherwise unusually sympathetic in the building's care -- photograph by Nicolas Lemery Nantel / salokin.com

The belfry is not perfect, but it and it's builders, the church, saved this magnificent gem and those irreplaceable interiors so why be picky? Criticism is deserved to those who can't see the purpose of re-using a preservation worthy building and tear them down without a second thought, AKA Vornado Development, Lefrak Corporation and the now demolished Chickering Hall exteriors and the Rizzoli Book Store interoirs.

Actually, Thomas Lamb designed two other movie palaces using the same style as the 175th Street; all for Loew's theatres. The first one opened in 1928 and was the Loew's State in Syracuse (now the Landmark Theatre).The other was Loew's 72nd street, which opened in 1932 and was demolished in 1960. It had been designed with an atmospheric auditorium. Most movie palace fans agree that Thomas Lamb's masterpiece was the Fox Theatre in San Francisco. It is generally believed to be the most palatial movie palace ever built.

When we were here, the building was closed but I found a security guard and told him a little of what I had learned from your blog and said I would love to see the interiors that Rev. Ike had preserved and restored. He called someone in the office who, much to our delight, showed us around and let us take a bunch of photos of this magical place. Another trip highlight thanks to you!